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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Death · #1037458
In my head she dies this way every night.
She stepped away from the shore
The ground that we walk on
To get from here to there
The rushing river
Speeds by in the middle;
Mostly we ignore it - its for people in a hurry
We prefer to keep by the side
Talking of things only we can talk about
Mostly nothing and sometimes something
Today she glides along side me
Wearing a white jacket
That trails all the way down to her ankles.
"You look like a ghost" I comment
As she glides along beside me
Beautifully playing her part
She steps down from the curb
Gracefully walking backwards
Looking more like an angel than a ghost
As the metal struck her leg
And I listened to the noise
Of flesh embracing metal
She slid along the ground
Her red life shockingly vibrant
Against the white of her jacket
The smile she had reserved for me
Was still upon her face
And the eyes stole her smile
And the air stole her breath
And the concrete stole her blood
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